


Real Bad Things (With You)

by fuzipenguin



Series: New Ventures [1]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Bukkake, Electricity, Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Open Relationships, Other, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2018-05-20 23:37:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6029761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mix a pair of twins, a medic, and an electrorod and what do you get?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is completely separate from my other BDSM stuff.  
> Written for Jennoddballpunk on Tumblr because she gave me the prompt/wishlist of Ratchet and the Twins and an electrorod.

                "Aren't you going to participate?" Ratchet gasped, the last syllable emerging as more of a squeak than an actual word. He would have been embarrassed, but the tingle radiating outwards from his hip and down into his interface array sufficiently distracted him. 

                Sideswipe cocked his head to the side, optics shutters moving in a slow blink. "Why can't I just watch? I do like seeing you squirm," he commented, lips curving up into a pleased little smile. 

                Sunstreaker took that moment to stroke the electrowand up Ratchet's side and press the tip into the hollow of his left arm. The surge of charge directly into the exposed substructure made Ratchet twitch and sway in place, the chains which stretched his arms above his head and left him precariously balanced on his pedetips rattling. 

                "And I like _making_ you squirm," Sunstreaker rumbled, leering. He reached out his unoccupied hand and flicked the tip of Ratchet's straining spike. A droplet of pre-transfluid landed on his lower belly and began sliding down his plating, tickling the hypersensitive dermal sensors. 

                "As long as you... don't whine later about... ah!... not having a turn," Ratchet replied, arching into the firm and methodical strokes now traveling across his upper thighs. 

                Sideswipe placed a hand on his chestplate, adopting a shocked expression. "Whine? _Me_? When have you ever known me to whine?"

                Sunstreaker paused and exchanged a glance with Ratchet, both of them wearing matching incredulous expressions. 

                "Oh, shut it," Sideswipe said, waving a hand through the air. He pushed off from the desk and straightened out of the insolent slouch he had been in for the past twenty minutes. "Fine, I'll play. Gimme, Sunny."

                He imperiously held out his hand and Sunstreaker stepped back without protest, handing the electrorod to his brother. Sideswipe took it, looping its strap around his wrist. He held his arm up and the small wand swung in little circles. Ratchet's optics were drawn to it, the glowing tip making little figure eights in mid-air. His gaze hungrily followed the rod’s motion, wanting its crackling touch back against his plating. 

                "Where do you want it, Ratch?" Sideswipe asked softly, his optics fixed on the swinging toy just as Ratchet’s were. "Sunny's had it on a pretty low setting; you want it full strength? When it's buzzing and snapping and you can't tell if it's pleasure or pain?"

                Ratchet moaned, his body arching towards Sideswipe in silent plea. Although he wasn’t so far gone that he would beg with actual words.

                Not yet anyway.

                “Can’t decide? Guess I’ll have to surprise you then, huh?” Sideswipe murmured. He drew his arm up even higher, bringing Ratchet’s gaze with it until their optics locked. Sideswipe winked flirtatiously as he flicked his wrist, swinging the handle of the rod into his palm. He tapped the offlined tip of it against his chin as he turned to look over his shoulder at his twin.

                “Any input, bro?”

                Sunstreaker crossed his arms over his chest and considered Ratchet’s strung up form. “I want to watch him overload. Shove it up his valve… highest setting.”

                Ratchet whimpered, spreading his thighs as wide as they could go and still be on his pedes. Yes, that sounded like a brilliant idea. Do that, please and thank you.

                “Mmm… I don’t know. I want to see him blow too, but that’s too easy,” Sideswipe mused, frowning as he turned back to stare in speculation at Ratchet’s groin.

                “Nothing’s going to happen if you don’t touch me!” Ratchet snapped impatiently, tugging at his bonds. The exposed beam above their heads creaked, but held. What was taking Sideswipe so long!?

                Sideswipe’s optics brightened. “Oh? You want me to touch you?” he purred, gliding forward until he was juuuust out of reach of Ratchet’s wildest sway. Ratchet’s EM field pulsed at the other mech’s, inviting and demanding all at once. Sideswipe’s brushed back in a tantalizing little lick of mischievousness and lust, and Ratchet groaned in frustration. “What’s the magic word?”

                “Sideswipe!” Ratchet growled, kicking out with one leg while he teetered on the other.

                Sunstreaker and Sideswipe both chuckled as the red twin easily darted out of the way, sidling up behind Ratchet. He leaned forward, ex-venting hotly against the base of Ratchet’s neck and making him shiver. Instinctually, Ratchet bent his helm, further exposing the overlapping metal which rose up from his shoulders and protected his cervical strut and associated structures.

                “That’ll do. Scream it for me later, will you?” Sideswipe whispered, his denta scraping against Ratchet’s plating.

                Cocky aft.           

                “I’ve yet to see you give me a reason to,” Ratchet mumbled, optics dimming of their own accord as Sideswipe continued to lick and nibble at the same patch of armor. While certainly very nice, it wasn’t what he had been hoping for.

                “You wanted me to play. I’m playing,” Sideswipe retorted before biting down.

                Hard.

                Hard enough to make Ratchet yelp and jump, but not hard enough to mask the press of the electrowand’s tip into the gap of plating just above Ratchet’s aft. Ratchet’s jerk of his shoulders forward, away from Sideswipe’s denta, pushed Ratchet’s lower back even harder against the humming toy.

                The bright spark of sensation was over all too soon, almost before Ratchet registered that it had even happened. Wand off, Sideswipe released Ratchet’s neck and licked at the dents he had made as Ratchet made a shocked noise.

                Tingles still crawled up his spinal strut, almost in unison with the slow slide of the offlined rod’s tip up his dorsum. He shuddered as the wand flipped on at the level of his shoulders, grunting in disapproval as it turned back off after barely a second.

                “You’re such a tease,” Ratchet complained, his plating ruffling in irritation. And if he left it purposely gaping afterwards, so what? Apparently Sideswipe needed an engraved invitation to really get going.

                Sideswipe’s hand gently cradled the back of Ratchet’s helm, exerting a forward pressure on it. Ratchet resisted at first, before allowing his head to be pushed, far enough down that his chin rested against his chestplate and he lost sight of Sunstreaker’s avid expression.

                Voyeurs, the both of them. Sunstreaker could be making use of both his hands and mouth on other parts of Ratchet’s anatomy, but no, he had to _watch_.

                Sideswipe continued to bite at Ratchet’s neck, his glossa slipping between transformation seams and stimulating sensors on the underside of his armor plates. Ratchet made another embarrassing noise as his spinal substructure was reached and he did his best to arch into the sensation, engine giving a quiet rev.

                Without warning, a burst of charge shot through him from high on his left side. He cried out in surprise, jerking in place. A firm grip on the back of Ratchet’s head was the only thing that prevented Sideswipe from losing part of his glossa as he continued to lick into exposed seams on Ratchet’s nape, biting hard at the edges of the metal.

                This time, Sideswipe kept the rod in place for far longer, thrusting it in deep through the gaps of plating Ratchet had left him. Instinctively, his frame tried to clamp his armor down when the wand angled up, towards his spark chamber. He squirmed, hands clenching into fists, as his body alternatively tried to move both closer and farther away from the burning fire licking up his side.

                The rod’s power abruptly powered down to its lowest setting and withdrew, sliding down over his hip and curving around to his abdomen. Sideswipe let it rest there, where it barely tickled sensors that were still catching up with the previous sensation.

                Sideswipe dug his denta in once more before abruptly stepping to the side. He peered into Ratchet’s gasping face.

                “You said something about me being a tease?” Sideswipe said innocently, turning the rod off and tapping it against the tip of Ratchet’s heavily leaking spike. It bobbed in mid-air, jerking a little before resting once more against Ratchet’s lower belly.

                “Because if you want me to… I can be…” The rod slowly slid downwards, skirting Ratchet’s spike and gliding over his valve entrance. A brief flick of the power switch and Ratchet choked on his own oral lubricant at the firm press of the onlined wand against his anterior node. The toy shut off almost immediately, but the sensation echoed through his groin as Sideswipe continue to massage Ratchet’s nub with the rod.

                He cried out again as the toy abruptly pushed past the pleats of his valve and slid inside, bottoming out and rubbing against his ceiling node. Ratchet froze, his cooling fans shrieking.

                “Or we could go with Sunny’s suggestion,” Sideswipe remarked silkily, pressing against Ratchet’s side and nuzzling his cheek. The rod withdrew a fraction and then slid back home, making Ratchet’s hips buck in response.

                “Yeah,” Sunstreaker breathed from several feet away. Ratchet blearily looked up to see the golden twin’s optics dark and hungry as they stared at Sideswipe’s hand. “Do it, Sides. Make him scream.”

                Sideswipe thrust twice more before removing the electowand and holding it up for the three of them to see the lubricant liberally streaking its surface. A flick of the switch and it hummed to life, Sideswipe staring directly at Ratchet’s startled face as the frontliner licked the glowing tip.

                He shuttered his optics in pleasure despite the faint hiss of electricity against his wet glossa. “Mmm, you taste so good, Ratch.”

                Speechless, and so turned on Ratchet thought he might overload from just watching Sideswipe, Ratchet whined pleadingly. Begging out loud was beginning to sound more and more appealing.

                “No,” Sideswipe said decisively, stepping back from Ratchet. He turned the wand off and finished licking the end of it clean while his optics roved over Ratchet’s frame. “I think I want to tease a little more. I’ve barely played, after all.”

                Both Sunstreaker and Ratchet moaned in disappointed unison, although Ratchet’s sound of frustration morphed into one of bliss as the lightly humming rod stroked up his right chevron point.

                “Don’t be sad, Sunny, you can play too. Why don’t you give this some attention?” Sideswipe suggested, making Ratchet thrust his hips forward as a firm grip enveloped his spike and squeezed.

                “I… I’ll definitely overload,” Ratchet warned, leaning his head into the crackle of electricity and shuddering in anticipation as Sunstreaker eagerly moved forward, dropping to his knees at Ratchet’s feet.

                “No, you won’t,” Sideswipe replied confidently. He lifted the wand and turned the rod on full power. Ratchet held very, very still as the tip of it ghosted just above each point of his chevron, little sparks leaping across the miniscule distance to crackle at the sensitive metal.

                Then a warm, wet mouth engulfed the head of his spike and sucked, making Ratchet shout. Fortunately, he threw his head backwards, and not forwards into the angrily spitting rod.

                “Will!” he struggled to get out, hips dancing in place as Sunstreaker gripped the base of Ratchet’s spike and stroked it in time with little bobs of that golden head.

                “Not yet. Not until I tell you,” Sideswipe said cheerfully, reaching up to grip Ratchet’s right fist. He pried the red fingers loose from their reflexive clench, threading them through Sideswipe’s own before pressing the wand lengthwise against Ratchet’s palm.

                Delicate sensors screamed at the sudden influx of information and Ratchet echoed it with a wail of his own. His arms reflexively jerked on the chains and he writhed in place, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. The suction around his spike barely, just barely, took the edge off the overwhelming burn in his hand. Distantly, his processor told him that the wand was at its highest power and the sensors in his hand couldn’t take much more of the charge before they blew. Another five seconds of it actually. And he _needed_ those sensors for his work. Could he even manage to speak a warning in time?

                His lips trembled in something akin to panic.

                Four.

                Vocalizer clicking uselessly, Ratchet rebooted it.

                Three.

                A harder press of the wand and the first word turned into a spiraling cry.

                Two.

                And then it all stopped.

                Sideswipe whipped the rod away and Ratchet’s optics popped open. Ventilating far too quickly, he rolled his head to the side to see Sideswipe wincing a little. He jerked his hand free from Ratchet’s, shaking it and admiring the dents in the sides of his fingers.

                “You got a grip on you,” he said, holding his hand up and grinning. “I didn’t break anything, did I?”

                To Ratchet’s surprise, a quick diagnostic showed him that no, Sideswipe hadn’t. A light dermal burn, but one that his own repair system would take care of within hours. While it had _felt_ like his arm was being consumed by Megatron’s fusion canon, it hadn’t actually been.

                And now that the sensation was starting to turn into an angry throb instead of feeling like he was being disintegrated, the attention to his spike was rapidly becoming more noticeable. Ratchet struggled to shift his too heavy helm, aiming his gaze downward.

                Sunstreaker was staring back up at him, optics half shuttered and lips stretched wide around the circumference of Ratchet’s spike. Smears of pre-transfluid decorated his upper lip and Ratchet’s engine sputtered at the sight.

                “I’m guessing not, or else you’d be yelling by now,” Sideswipe mused. “Hey, are you getting close again?”

                Ratchet merely groaned, biting the inside of his cheek as tension wound tight in his lower belly. His palm ached dully, as did his side and the back of his neck. His sensor net wavered between pain and pleasure, that perfect balance guaranteed to quickly tip him over the edge. For his first time using the rod, Sideswipe had done amazingly well.

                “Yeah, I think you are. Lift up, Sunny, I’m not ready for him to come yet,” Sideswipe instructed.

                “No!” Ratchet protested, swallowing a yelp as Sunstreaker started suctioning harder. His hands latched onto Ratchet’s upper thighs and a fierce growl vibrated up Ratchet’s shaft, making his vision fritz.

                “Sunny…!” Sideswipe exclaimed, tugging on his twin’s shoulder. Sunstreaker merely batted him aside, stroking Ratchet’s spike faster with his other hand.

                Making an exasperated noise, Sideswipe slid the electrowand up under Sunstreaker’s chin and rested a finger over the power switch. “ _Stop_ , Sunstreaker.”

                Ratchet watched in aroused amusement as Sunstreaker rolled his optics to stare at his brother, clear challenge in his gaze.

                “Don’t think I won’t,” Sideswipe promised in a warning tone.

                The motion of Sunstreaker’s head slowed to a stop and Ratchet grumbled a protest. Just as Sideswipe shifted to ease back a step, Sunstreaker hummed and dove his head down, the back of his intake cradling Ratchet’s spike in delicious, moist warmth. He shuddered, nearly overloading on the spot.

                “Seriously?” Sideswipe asked, exasperated. Ratchet heard a soft humming sound, and forced his optics online once more, staring down at the flicker of pain now crossing Sunstreaker’s face. Yet, he still sucked and swallowed rhythmically around the length in his mouth. Ratchet was pretty grateful for that, because he thought he might lose his processor if Sunstreaker stopped now. So close…

                “Brat,” Sideswipe commented softly, upping the power on the wand. Sunstreaker whined, a garbled sound around his mouthful, but determinedly continued. A curl of smoke rose up from Sunstreaker’s throat and Ratchet felt an inkling of worry.

                Sideswipe’s thumb moved again and Sunstreaker’s optic shutters fluttered, a groan vibrating Ratchet’s spike. More smoke and the smell of burnt paint floated up to Ratchet’s olfactory sensors.

                “Sideswipe…” Ratchet panted, hips thrusting in little increments. He was nearly there but an overload wasn’t worth this little power struggle between the twins, especially if one of them wound up hurt.

                “I told you to stop,” Sideswipe growled, reaching out with his free hand and placing his palm on Sunstreaker’s forehelm. With a grunt of effort, he shoved Sunstreaker’s head back, rocking him onto the heels of his pedes. Yet, Sideswipe didn’t remove the rod, in fact, he turned it up even further. By this point it had to be at its highest setting or the one just below it.

                “Sideswipe!” Ratchet exclaimed. “Sto…”

                He trailed off as the shift in Sunstreaker’s position revealed his pelvis. His spike was rock hard, dripping small pearls of pre-transfluid from the tip. And instead of flinching away from the spitting toy, he grabbed his brother’s wrist and tried to tug it closer, tucking his chin to achieve further contact with the rod.

                “More!” Sunstreaker rasped, entire frame shaking.

                “Only if you touch yourself,” Sideswipe countered. Sunstreaker frowned, but did as instructed, wrapping a hand around his spike and roughly stroking it.

                “Please…” Sunstreaker whimpered, legs spreading until his aft rested on the floor. Ratchet spied a small puddle lubricant beneath him, and experienced the sneaking suspicion that this was not in fact, the first time the twins had used an electrowand.

                “You close?” Sideswipe questioned, staring down at his brother, none of the earlier exasperation present. In fact, Ratchet only saw concern and calculation, and his field surged out of control with lust. Sideswipe spared him a glance before looking back at Sunstreaker.

                The golden frontliner tried to nod, whined at Sideswipe’s restraining grip on his head, and choked out a shaky ‘yes!’ instead.

                “Good, that’s good, Sunny. Then overload for me,” Sideswipe said softly, turning the wand up one last time.

                Sunstreaker wailed, the motion of his hand practically a blur. Ratchet watched the twin at his feet tremble and then shudder as uncontrollable spasms swept over him, his spike spurting out several thin streams of transfluid. The odor of his spill mixed with scorched plating and circuitry and hit Ratchet like a physical blow. Groaning, he swung in place, hips fretfully pumping in mid-air.

                Taking pity on him, Sideswipe released his grip on his brother’s helm and took Ratchet’s spike in hand, squeezing it firmly. A mere two strokes later and bliss erupted over him, the coil of tension in his lower belly finally releasing in waves of white hot pleasure.

                Barely keeping his optics online, he watched spurt after spurt of transfluid splatter onto Sunstreaker’s upturned face. He moaned, expression turning serene as the liquid began dripping down his cheeks. A final spill of transfluid dribbled out of Ratchet’s spike at the sight. Thinking he might never see anything as arousing or beautiful again in his life, he hurriedly took multiple image captures of the golden twin’s face.

                Despite Sunstreaker’s weak moan of protest, Sideswipe removed the electrowand, flicking it off and tossing it on the nearby berth. Wiping his hand off on his own thigh, Sideswipe took his brother’s helm in his hands and knelt. He tilted Sunstreaker’s head up, gently stroking the still smoking plating covering his throat.

                “Doing ok?” Sideswipe questioned quietly. He glanced over his shoulder. “Both of you?”

                “I’m great,” Ratchet answered truthfully, sagging in his chains. “But why… do I get the feeling… that I didn’t need to have gone through those instructions with you before I started?”

                Sideswipe shrugged, returning his attentions to his twin. “It made you feel better, and I thought we could learn a thing or two.”

                “Did you?” Ratchet asked curiously. It didn’t seem as if Sideswipe had needed any pointers.

                Sunstreaker moaned when Sideswipe prodded the burnt armor. “A bit. Sunny?” Sideswipe prompted, distracted from elaborating by his examination of his brother.

                With good reason. Ratchet wanted down and soon, so he could take a look himself. Although, he didn’t know how quickly he’d be able to stand on his own without falling over, so maybe he’d stay here for a just a little bit longer…

                “… m’fine,” Sunstreaker slurred, swaying in Sideswipe’s grip. “All… he… all over my face, Sides….” he murmured dreamily.

                “Yup, you’re a mess, bro,” Sideswipe replied, removing a cloth from subspace and wiping Sunstreaker’s face down with it.

                “Ah… sorry,” Ratchet said, slightly embarrassed. He didn’t normally produce _that_ much transfluid…

                “Nothing to be sorry about. He loved it, trust me,” Sideswipe said, standing and winking at Ratchet. He turned his attention back to his twin, transferring his grip to Sunstreaker’s shoulders.

                “Come on, bro, let’s get you into bed.”

                Under his brother’s guiding touch, Sunstreaker stood and wobbled his way over to the berth, crawling into it and curling around one of the pillows with a sleepy smile. Ratchet’s spark nearly melted at the sight. Who knew Sunstreaker could ever be so malleable and, dare Ratchet say it, cute?

                “Mmm… Ratchet?” Sunstreaker asked, his optics dimming and offlining.

                “I’ll get him, you just keep the bed warm for us, hmm?”

                Sunstreaker nodded, his engine purring loudly enough for Ratchet to hear it halfway across the room.  

                Sideswipe quickly came back to Ratchet, loosening the chains enough for his heels to touch the floor, but only barely. Ratchet gave his lover a grateful look as the cables in his legs stretched back into their proper positions and his gyros recalibrated.

                “You sure you’re ok?” Sideswipe questioned. There was a wary, pinched look around his optics, as if he was dreading what Ratchet was going to say. There was no reason for it; Ratchet hadn’t had an overload that powerful in quite a long time.

                “Perfectly fine,” Ratchet said reassuringly, his lower limbs now tingling for a completely different reason than excess electricity. “You’re good with that wand. I take it you use it often?”

                Sideswipe averted his gaze and shrugged as he loosened the chains the rest of the way. “Sunny gets to a good place with pain. The rod is one of his favorites, but you can see the damage it leaves, so we actually don’t use it all that much. High settings, but for short periods of time only.”

                “I like how you timed that to his overload,” Ratchet mused, several previously held notions about the twins erasing themselves. There was apparently more to their interfacing relationship than Ratchet had known. He should have caught on to that earlier; Ratchet had been the one to suggest bondage and the electrowand this time around, but neither twin had flinched at the idea. “Nicely done.”

                Sideswipe ducked his head, fidgeting a little as Ratchet’s arms dropped to his sides, finally freed of the restraints. “Um, thanks.”

                Ratchet’s spark melted a little further at Sideswipe’s suddenly flustered demeanor. He seemed almost shy, and Ratchet wondered if the twins had done something like this before with anyone else. Fortunately, Ratchet had.

                He reached for Sideswipe, tilting his face up so that their optics met. “I had fun,” Ratchet said truthfully. “I’d love to see what other tricks the two of you know. I have a few of my own; we could compare notes.”

                Sideswipe’s optics brightened and he leaned imperceptibly closer towards Ratchet. “Yeah? That’d be cool.”

                “Later, of course,” Ratchet returned, nodding at the berth and its loose-limbed occupant.

                “Oh, yeah,” Sideswipe replied, grabbing Ratchet’s hand and tugging him across the room. “Will you take a look at Sunny? I’m pretty sure it’s all superficial, but you’d know best. And then… you wanna stay for a little while longer?”

                There was that bashful look again. Perhaps it was because the expression was such an out of place look on a normally confident mech. Maybe it was even contrived. Nevertheless, it tugged at Ratchet’s spark, and he couldn’t have said no, even if he had wanted to.

                “You couldn’t stop me from doing a brief exam,” Ratchet informed the red twin. “And… my quarters are a bit of a walk from here. Do you mind if I stay for the entire rest of the shift?”

                Sideswipe beamed at him. “As long as you don’t mind getting Sunny-snuggled. He’s pretty clingy after an interface like that.”

                Ratchet came to a stop at the bed’s edge and gazed down at Sunstreaker. The frontliner cracked one optic open and gave Ratchet a small smile, reaching out for him. 

                “I don’t mind in the slightest,” Ratchet mumured, allowing himself to be pulled down onto the soft surface.

                Exam first. Then he’d think about some ways to pay Sideswipe back for that amazing experience.

  
~ End


	2. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jenn-oddballpunk said: *taps chin* Now who could be your faves? How 'bout something sweet and sexy with Ratch and the Twins?

     “How are you feeling?” Sideswipe asked, stroking a hand down Ratchet’s arm. “You’re pretty quiet.”

     “Because I feel good,” Ratchet replied, optics firmly shuttered. “I’m enjoying it. Maybe you should try too.”

     Sunstreaker laughed quietly from the other side of Ratchet. The sound made Ratchet’s back plating vibrate pleasantly as the warrior pressed even closer. “Sideswipe likes to talk after. It’s his thing.”

     “I like making sure you’re in the right place mentally and physically,” Sideswipe protested. “…that there’s nothing else you need and what I can do to make it better in the future.”

     Ratchet blindly reached out and laid a hand on Sideswipe’s chestplate, patting it soothingly. “That’s the right thing to do. But I’m good. I don’t think that could have gone better if we had actually planned it.”

     “You’re sure neither one of you need fuel? Maybe a blanket?” Sideswipe pressed.

     Ratchet sighed, opening his optics only to look over his shoulder at Sunstreaker. A mild exasperation met Ratchet’s gaze. Ratchet raised an orbital ridge and lightly jerked his head in wordless communication. Smirking, Sunstreaker pushed himself upright and slithered over Ratchet’s side. The scrape of their plating against one another made Ratchet shiver with pleasant aftershocks.

     “What we need… is for you to shut up,” Sunstreaker replied, straddling Sideswipe’s body on hands and knees. “There’s really only one way I know of for you to do that.”

     “Gag him? I might have something suitable in my subspace…” Ratchet suggested.

     Sideswipe reached for his brother’s hips, but Sunstreaker batted Sideswipe’s hands aside, making a little ‘tsk’ sound in the back of his throat. Sideswipe pouted, and let his arms fall back to his side.

     “No. I had thought of something different, actually,” Sunstreaker purred as he lifted one hand and slid it between his thighs. Ratchet heard a moist, slick sound and Sunstreaker licked his lips. “Sideswipe never overloaded, you know – I bet you could make use of his spike while I occupy his mouth.”

     “That would definitely keep me quiet,” Sideswipe commented, nodding sagely. “And if that’s what you need, well then, I live to serve…”

 

~ End Chapter


End file.
